On Life After Death And Trade Union Weekends

I am Goddessdeeva and it has been a month since I last blogged.

I've been meaning to blog more, but I haven't had the heart. I'll explain.

Husband has moved all of his stuff out now. It is all official. It has been strange, weird, horrible. The time leading up to that was not pleasant and I have been quite ill through the stress of it all. Daily phone calls. Rowing all the time. Awkwardness with the kids. Horrible.

And yet there is a part of me that still loves him. Part of me wants to work it all out with him. Part of me just wants to wrap myself around him and never let him go. Part of me.

Big part of me wonders if I could have had the weekend I just had if I was still with him. Short answer is no.

Oh, here's a thing people. If you have a partner who wants to do stuff that doesn't interest you at weekends, saying 'I never stopped them from going' is disengenous. You are a passive aggressive asshole and I see through you. And you get on my last nerve.

But I digress.

I have just had the best weekend ever. I went to Tower Hamlets on saturday to help stop the scummy English Defence League from getting into the borough.

I was never sure how I felt about people from outside an area turning up on behalf of a community, but I am proud to have stood shoulder to shoulder with comrades and communities. Even though the Home Secretary had banned all marches. Actually marching would have contravened section 38 of the Public Order Act according to the lovely policeman who took me aside to talk to me after I had drunk a very nice cup of tea at the East London Mosque.

I wouldn't want to break the law. Nor would any of the comrades I was with. So we didn't march. Coz that would have been illegal.

We did take a communal stroll down Whitechapel Road though. Lots of us. Strolling communally. Like you do. On our way, we just happened to see a load of placards lying about. Tutting, we picked them up to make the place look tidier. Amazing as well how all us communal strollers had lots to say, mainly the same thing, all at the same time! To the untrained ear, it might have sounded like chanting! Especially when we all said 'are you watching Theresa May?'

But it wasn't a march... honest...

And best of all, they did not pass.

On sunday it was a completely different beast. I went to the Burston Strike School Rally (Google it lazy!) and had a great time. There were stalls, freebies (oh I love a good freebie) music (not keen, but there you go and John Hegley, no love... just no... you looked bored shitless) food, speeches, lying on the grass and a march round the same route the kids took (they walked bloody MILES!) with not one, but two marching bands courtesy of RMT and NASUWT.

It was fab.

I got to meet new comrades, see ones I hadn't seen in an age, lie on the grass eating vegetable jalfrezi and I even had a chat with Bob Crow. A real chat. About how happy I was that his members had scuppered EDL plans. If you ever happen to read this Bob, I'm sorry for delaying you on what was obviously a journey to the loos.

I am shattered. It is hard work doing what equates to a lot of standing around in intense heat listening to speeches you have heard before from people you don't know.

Would I have missed it for the world? Not on your nelly!

So it would seem that I have some serious thinking to do about what part of me I listen to. I'll let you know when I work it out.

But after TUC Congress eh? And Tolpuddle...